U Turn
by Ticklesivory
Summary: Obidala! Experiences and training have shaped Obi-Wan into the man he has become, but his Master sees a problem with that and is going to try and fix it. FYI: This is a QUI-GON ISN'T DEAD story! Yay!
1. Chapter 2

**If you are just beginning to read this story, I have to explain that while writing Qui-Gon's Senior Moments, I'm afraid I've had one of my own. Accidentally deleted Chapter One! You will find it following Chapter Ten. As far as I know, there isn't a way to put it back in order. Chapter Eleven will now be following Chapter One. Sorry about that! **

* * *

**Chapter Two **

**"A Bomb Falls in Theed"**

As Qui-Gon misted the collection of living organisms he had collected along his travels throughout the galaxy, he pondered the words Mace had said to him. So, the council was concerned about Anakin, eh? They should be. He was the Chosen One, after all; the sole Jedi who would bring balance to the Force, who would get rid of the darkness once and for all. It was a heavy burden to bear, and he had often worried and wondered if the young boy from Tatooine was up to the task. However, he had never worried about Anakin's Master. At least not until today. If indeed, Obi-Wan was being too rigorous and firm, he couldn't blame him. He had learned from the best.

Now that he had retired from active duty, Qui-Gon had much more time to think about the rights and wrongs he had done to his padawans of the past. Amongst them, Obi-Wan stood out like beacon in a black hole. He had been a bright, upstanding, and intelligent child, eager to learn and eager to please. Though, perhaps too eager at times. Qui-Gon had decided early on with Obi-Wan, given his failure with his apprentice just prior, he would keep a tight rein on the young man and not allow any foolish idealisms or pursuits get in his way of becoming a Jedi Knight.

His philosophy had worked, and they had goten along well. That is, until their assignment to Naboo. There were a couple of things he now regretted which happened during that mission. One: He should've handled announcing to the council that he wished to take Anakin as his apprentice a little differently. Perhaps, he had been too neglectful of Obi-Wan's feelings in that regard. It was something that needed to be done, however, and there was no other way to do it.

No, that wasn't the issue.

Qui-Gon returned to the kitchen to refill his spray bottle and continue with his chores, misting every individual specimen, which seemed to have somehow taken up the majority of his living space. When had that happened?

The issue which stood between them like a bantha carved from stone was the stand he had taken in Theed, after he had been nearly fatally wounded by that Sith creature.

He had been lying in the palace infirmary, an oxygen line running into his lungs, a bactade drip sunk into his veins, unable to move, but unfortunately not unable to talk. He wished that would've been the case. Things would be so much better now.

His apprentice had entered the infirmary concerned about his Master as he should've been, but bubbling with a happiness Qui-Gon had never seen before in the young man; not since he had been chosen as his padawan. After ensuring his Master was indeed going to survive, that's when he dropped the bomb.

He was in love. With the Queen of Naboo.

Qui-Gon decided to put away the tools of his hobby before he drowned one of his friends. This was a most aggravating memory, one he wished to forget, but one that always seemed to come up from time to time. It was during these moments, he wished he could be like non-Force sensitives of his age and suffer from some form of dementia or something. Maybe, then he could live peacefully in ignorance, walk around in his smallclothes, be forgetful and lose his senses from time to time. That would be nice.

He sat down on the sofa next to the carnivorous plant he had picked up while visiting Thyferra, watching its toothy trap open wide as soon as it sensed his presence. "Don't be such a glutton. I already fed you."

From his recovery bed in Theed, he had recited a long and thorough lecture in regards to the various pitfalls of a Jedi becoming involved in a personal relationship. Obi-Wan had stood with excellent posture, apparently taking it all in, the entire thirty-three and one-half minutes Qui-Gon had droned on and on, before he spoke one word: As any respectful student would.

"Master, I've been thinking on the matter, and I know how you feel about the subject, but I've come to the conclusion that I agree with the New Order Jedi, who believe that having a stable and committed relationship only stabilizes a Jedi's health and mental state. It decreases stress by directly affecting cortisol levels, improves mood by guarding against depression, and recent studies have even shown that being in love lowers systolic blood pressure."

He was gawking. He realized that, but at the time, he blamed his open mouth on his difficulties breathing.

He had to hand it to his apprentice, however. The boy had done his research. But still, the heartache and disappointment that invariably accompanies a long-term relationship was not worth the risk. He should know. He had been in love once, and when she had died while performing her duty as a Jedi, the grief had nearly caused him to turn to the dark side.

It was Obi-Wan who had kept him safe. It was Obi-Wan who had given him a reason to stay in the light.

No. He couldn't allow it. His padawan's future was much too bright to take a chance on something as frivolous as young love. So, as any other responsible Master would do, he had forbidden it. With just those few words, he had distinguished the light burning behind his padawan's eyes, and since then, their relationship had never been the same.

And now the council wanted him to talk to Obi-Wan about how to raise his own padawan. There was no way in the hell Obi-Wan was going to listen.

But perhaps he knew someone else who would.


	2. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**"Other Natures of Negotiation"**

Down in the belly of the Jedi Temple, beneath the street level, and on the opposite side of the creche, lay the Grand Master's Hall. It was the part of the building, which housed the Jedi Masters who had not only successfully managed to raise and train one padawan, but several. It also housed the members of the Jedi Council. This portion of the Temple was quiet, sparsely decorated with muted colors on the floors and walls; quite a contrast to the bold entry of the temple with its grand celebratory statues, rich purple and gold carpets, and intricate stairways. This area was modest, clean, and understated.

That is, until you turned the corner of the last hallway and headed toward the apartment at the end of it. You begin to notice things. Small objects really. A table with an interesting rock placed on it. An antique text made from actual parchment. However, the further you proceed, the display increases, not only in the size of the objects, but in the amount of them, until you feel as if you've entered a museum. Lining the walls are a variety of handcrafted items from all over the galaxy; masks, weapons, tapestries, pottery, tools - all indicative that the occupant of the last apartment is not only a collector, but his travels have taken him to the most remote systems in the galaxy.

The collector and traveler is Qui-Gon Jinn and these are his rooms. He is a legend amongst the Jedi; a warrior, a mentor, and also a good friend. Which is why the visitor doesn't ring the door chime, but proceeds to enter without pause.

"Master Qui-Gon? You wanted to see me? Hello?"

It had been nearly three months since Anakin Skywalker had had a chance to visit his almost-Master. Between classes, studying, training, and missions, he barely had time to get enough sleep, much less find time for a visit.

"I'm sorry I'm late, but Master Obi-Wan had me run through third drill until it was perfect. Master Qui-Gon?"

The apprentice searched through the apartment, finally discovering the Jedi Master outdoors on his vegetation-crowded balcony. Qui-Gon was there amongst the shrubbery, kneeling in an obvious meditative pose, his heavily silvered hair floating about his face on a gentle Coruscanti breeze. He looked to be in good health, although he appeared substantially older than he had since Anakin's last visit. There were more wrinkles in his face than Anakin remembered, but he'd heard that sometimes physical pain can add years to one's appearance. He hoped Master Qui-Gon wasn't in pain, but he wouldn't be surprised if he were and was doing nothing about it. It had taken half the council to force him to undergo physical rehab after his injury.

"Anakin, my boy!" The Jedi Master came out of meditation quickly, but rose to his feet slowly. Anakin offered his assistance, pulling Qui-Gon up by his elbow. "It's great to see you! How have you been?"

"How have you been Master Jinn? Your plant collection has grown since I was here last."

"Indeed it has. A little propagation, some careful maintenance and close monitoring works wonders. Speaking of," he paused ushering the young man back inside to the common area, "how is my old padawan treating you?"

"You know him better than I do, Master Jinn."

"True, which is why I've asked you here today. It's been brought to my attention Obi-Wan is being too hard on you. Is that an accurate assumption?"

The youth smiled, but hesitated in answering, taking a seat and staring at the meat-eating plant on the table next to him, which seemed to be staring back.

"Come now, you can tell me anything. You know that, Anakin."

He did know that, but he also knew padawans should respect their Masters, and he would never say anything against his own. Not in front of Qui-Gon, anyway. Obi-Wan Kenobi was admired in the Temple and throughout the galaxy, and Anakin was extremely fortunate to have him as a mentor.

"Anakin, I only ask this because I'm concerned about you. I only want what's best for you. If Obi-Wan is tough, it's only because I was tough on him; too tough at times. Therefore, I do have some insight, which may be of some help. I just want to make sure he's treating you fairly."

"Oh, he's fair, Master Jinn," Anakin was quick to defend. "It's just that..."

Qui-Gon sat next to the young man to offer more support, his gaze displaying his deep concern. "Proceed," he gently prodded.

"Sometimes, I just need a break, you know? A little time to relax. With Master Kenobi, it's always, go, go, go! Go do your astronav paper, go finish your exercises, go pack for our next mission, go set the table, go practice your drills. I understand what it means to commit to becoming a Jedi, I do, but even when I was a slave, Watto gave me some time to myself! That's all, Master Qui-Gon. Really."

"You mean, that's all you wish to tell me about," Qui-Gon elaborated, noticing the young man's indicative grin, which told him all he needed to know. Something had to be done.

"I have an idea, which, if it works out, should help everyone involved." As well as even possibly closing the rift between he and his padawan, he thought. "But I'm going to need your help."

"Okay," Anakin answered, suddenly becoming quite interested in the conversation.

"First, how many naming days have you seen?" Why couldn't he remember? Maybe dementia was a possibility after all.

"I'll be eighteen next week, Master."

"Then you're old enough to hear..."

"The story of Naboo?" Anakin asked excitedly.

Qui-Gon looked surprised, not due to the young's man interruption, but because of his awareness. "Your Master's mentioned it?"

'

"Only when he's upset," Anakin explained. "He uses the word 'Theed' like somebody would use a curse word."

"I see," Qui-Gon leaned forward, clasping his hands together and focusing his thoughts. He must choose his words carefully. "When your Master and I were on Naboo, he and Queen Amidala...came to an agreement."

"Master, I'm going to be eighteen, not eight," Anakin interjected, causing the older man to chuckle.

"Very well, they fell in love and wished to pursue...a more intimate relationship,"

"You mean, some negotiations of a sensual nature?" Anakin quipped before he burst into a fit of giggles.

My, how padawans had changed since his time. Qui-Gon supposed he needed to quit worrying about embarrassing the young man. "Something like that, yes."

"What happened?"

"I didn't allow it."

Anakin sobered immediately. "Oh. I didn't know you followed the Old Order, Master Jinn."

He could understand the confusion. In the past he had given his opinions and taken stands as someone from the New Order would. Some had even called him a rogue, just because he made decisions based upon his feelings and his readings of the Living Force, which, sometimes happened to go against the directives of the Council.

"I used to," he corrected the young man. "However, time is the best teacher and I've since corrected the error of some of my ways. That's where you come in." Qui-Gon noticed the confused look on the young man's face and continued quickly. "We've got to figure out a way for your Master and Senator Amidala to spend some time together. They need to renew their friendship and let things occur naturally, as I'm sure they will. Obi-Wan will be happier, you will be happier, and I shall be happy for you both."

"I don't know, Master Qui-Gon. The Council keeps us so busy. I don't see how that's going to be possible."

Qui-Gon smiled mischeviously. "Just leave that up to me."


	3. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four **

**"Custom Collages by Qui-Gon"**

"There are you, my darlings. I know it seems drastic now, but just you wait. Soon, you'll have the energy you need to bloom, and then you will outshine all your other friends. Won't that be worth it?"

His door chime rang.

"You're going to have to trust me on this. I know what's best for you."

It rang again and he ignored it, continuing to express his adoration for his silent, but loyal companions.

When it rang a third time, he put down his snippers and growled. He wasn't expecting anyone. Although he was hoping to hear from Anakin soon, he'd been pleased to hear the team of Kenobi and Skywalker had been assigned as a private security escort to Senator Amidala. Just as he had hoped for. Everything was going according to plan. Soon, Obi-Wan and Padme would fall in love again, get married, and they would all live happily ever after.

If only whomever was at his door would go away and give him some peace.

"I'll be back soon, my dears," he soothed the nannariums, which hung in his kitchen window, the sight of them always putting him in a better mood. He whistled as he walked toward the door, a catchy cantina tune he and Obi-Wan had picked up while on Corellia. He couldn't remember the words, but the melody was pleasing.

All pleasure was lost, however, when he saw who was at the door. Not that he disliked Mace Windu coming by unannounced. He just didn't care to see him when he was in a foul mood, which he obviously was today.

"Come on in, Mace, I was just fixing some tea."

"I don't want any tea."

"Care for some ale then? Or perhaps a brandy?" Qui-Gon teased, knowing his comrade was not in the mood for it, which made it all that more enjoyable.

"What I would care for is for you to explain this!"

Master Windu thrust a sheet of wrinkled parchment into Qui-Gon's chest before spinning round and storming across the room. Qui-Gon brought the article into view and stretched his arm out to take a better look. Damn his old eyes.

"I need my spectacles," he noted, receiving a curt wave of a hand and a backward glance as a response. Actually, he didn't need any reading assistance, whatsoever. He knew exactly what this was. He just wished Mace Windu wasn't in possession of it. He had specifically told Anakin to dispose of it once it had served its purpose! He pretended to read it anyway, just to patronize the man.

"This appears to be some type of warning," he noted before folding the paper in half and tucking it inside his tunic. "Does the council require consultation on deciphering its meaning? Or figuring out who sent it? I may be of some use, but I need to know who the recipient was first."

Mace's hands shot straight to his hips as he uttered a phrase Qui-Gon hadn't heard since he'd negotiated with the Hutts and Qui-Gon realized he was pushing his luck.

Mace turned on him, jaw set firm. "You know damn well who the recipient was, as well as who created that document! Don't play dumb with me."

"I have no idea what you're referring to! Why in the name of the Uknown Regions would you think I know that?"

"I swear, one of these days, Qui-Gon, I'm going to stop protecting you."

"I never asked you to start," the Jedi Master stood up straighter, making a mental note to remember not to slouch in front of council members. Mace had gone too far. He didn't need his protection or Yoda's either. He wasn't senile, helpless, or handicapped. So, he had a bit of a limp, arthritis had crept into his joints, and he was slowing down with age, but that came with the territory! Master Yoda was a genetic exception.

Qui-Gon held his breath for a moment, calmed his nerves and decided to proceed with his act of ignorance. At the moment, it seemed the best thing to do. "But I still don't understand why you would think..."

"You can't pull that old geezer stuff with me. You're only seven years my senior. I know better," Mace interrupted, his patience obviously growing thin.

Fine. So, this was the way it was going to be. He could handle it, as long as he could convince Mace to take his side.

"How did you know?" he admitted sheepishly, his slouch returning as he folded himself into a nearby chair.

"The parchment. You shouldn't have used any from your own collection. It's too rare."

"Ah," Qui-Gon noted, though he reminded himself it shouldn't have been a problem if only Anakin had gotten rid of the evidence! "But didn't you appreciate its form?"

"Very creative," Mace visibly relaxed now that Qui-Gon had opened up, and he sat in another chair on the opposite side of the dining table. "I especially liked the colorful cut-outs and the variety of the misshapen letters. Made the words, 'or you'll die' much more pleasant to read, I thought."

Qui-Gon hid his smile behind a well-timed hand to his face. He knew Master Windu considered this a serious offense, although no harm had been done. Had there?

"What were you thinking? And why would you threaten Senator Amidala?"

"Before I answer that, tell me, does anyone else know?"

"That you sent the senator a death threat? No, nobody knows it was you. Except me, of course."

"That's good."

Qui-Gon paused to pinch off a dead leaf from the scintil vine crawling up the wall next to the table. He was going to need to propagate it soon or it would take over his entire apartment.

His attention, however, was refocused by the clearing of Mace's throat. "Do you remember the day you dropped by and asked if I could be of some assistance with Anakin's training and upbringing?" he asked.

A single brow rose high on Windu's hairless scalp. "Yes."

"Well...?"

The brow then flatlined, forming a straight ridge just above Mace's dark eyes, a deep frown curving his mouth. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know. I have a feeling you're going to somehow end up blaming this all on me."

Qui-Gon shrugged innocently, deciding it was wise to stay silent. Let Windu make his assumptions for now.

"Just promise me one thing," Mace said as he rose and headed for the door. "I don't know what you're up to, but no more death threats, all right?"

"Agreed." Qui-Gon nodded once and then added his most innocent grin. Another brow rose on Windu's face though, so he wasn't sure if the council member bought it or not.


	4. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**"Plan B"**

It was on rare occasion the Council called him in to listen to a briefing, although they called him often. He was actually presently serving as a consultant to the Council, having turned down an appointment several years ago. As a consultant, he would sit in on meetings, which concerned team assignments, especially if they had been called to a system he was familiar with. He would also give his opinions on readings of the Living Force, the eminent uprising of the Sith, or the growing tension between the Jedi and the Senate.

He sat in the council chamber this afternoon, however, waiting with anticipation to hear from Obi-Wan and Anakin, who were calling in to report on the safety of Senator Amidala. His hopes were high and he was in good spirits: If only Mace Windu would quit glaring at him.

"Transmission received, Masters," the tech duty padawan announced before activating the overhead holoprojector. In the middle of the oval room, two forms took shape, their bodies comprised of points of blue light.

"Greetings to the Council," Obi-Wan announced before bowing reverently. Anakin imitated his Master from slightly behind Obi-Wan's right shoulder, just where his own padawan had once stood, Qui-Gon remembered fondly.

"Proceed with your briefing, Master Kenobi."

Exactly how he remembered Mace during these type of briefings: Precise and to the point.

"My apprentice and I have been guarding Senator Amidala at Varykino, her family's lake retreat on Naboo," Obi-Wan said loud and clear. "There have been no signs of danger to her or her family since our arrival, and no disturbance of the Force either. It is my opinion, therefore, that the threat to Senator Amidala's life on Coruscant was a false alarm. I respectfully request the Council give permission to abort the mission and return the Senator back to Coruscant."

During Obi-Wan's report, Qui-Gon tried to remain focused, but the severe looks he kept receiving from Master Windu were becoming a bit distracting.

"Permission granted, will be. Return the senator to her home, you shall," Master Yoda made the decision, once again as had taken place over many, many years in this room.

"Masters, if I may be granted an audience," Qui-Gon chose to speak before the transmission was complete. Every council member seemed to be surprised by his interruption, except for one, of course. "I need to speak with Padawan Skywalker regarding a personal matter," he finished, noting surprise also transforming Obi-Wan's face as well.

"Take your discussion into private chambers, you should," Master Yoda dismissed him with a wave of his claw, and Qui-Gon took the opportunity to exit the room to pick up the comm in the antechamber opposite the main entrance to the council chamber.

"Master Qui-Gon, you wished to speak with me?" Anakin's voice crackled through the miniature holoprojection.

"Is Obi-Wan out of hearing range?"

"He's gone to inform the senator we'll be leaving soon to return to Coruscant."

"Good, because I wanted to ask you how things were progressing."

Anakin didn't pretend not to know what he was talking about, which was a good thing, because personal communications on the Council's credit was generally frowned upon.

"Not good, Master Jinn. Not good at all!"

"What? What do you mean? Have they not been spending time together?"

"Yes and no," Anakin replied, scratching his head. "Master, honestly, I don't think they like each other!"

"That's not possible," Qui-Gon argued. He remembered seeing them together before his injury. They had shared several moments of awkard interactions, blushing furiously as they flirted with one another. He had seen the blossom of young love before, and the two of them were definitely in love. He knew it, even before his Padawan had told him!

"I'm sorry, but It is possible. They've been spending time together, I've made sure of it, but they rarely speak, and don't seem to enjoy each other's company very much."

Qui-Gon pondered for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. There had to be something he could do, and then it occurred to him.

Obi-Wan had been in love before, at the ripe age of 15. It had been with a padawan his own age. Her name was Siri Tachi. At the time, Obi-Wan had emphatically denied he had any feelings for the girl, that is, until another padawan, who happened to be Obi-Wan's biggest adversary, showed an interest in her. After that, Siri became the most beautiful and most intelligent girl he had ever met, and he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone before.

Bruck Chun's unexpected interest in her was all it had taken.

Qui-Gon knew exactly what needed to be done. He looked at Anakin carefully, as well as he could from 34,000 light years away, and decided he was fairly capable of handling such a task. He was young, in top physical shape, and fairly good-looking for an 18-year-old human male. Plus, he already knew the woman.

"I have an idea, which I believe will work," Qui-Gon explained, "if you'll agree to give it a try."


	5. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**"Out of the Storage Unit"**

Meal delivery to his rooms was an option Qui-Gon had considered several times. However, he understood that socialization was an important part of his life as a Jedi, even though he preferred a lifestyle a bit more reclusive. It simplified things. No questions, no judgments, no having to put up with Ki-Adi-Mundi, for example.

"Good morning, Master Qui-Gon!" the Council Member expressed far too cheerfully, considering what was on his meal tray.

"Good morning, Master Mundi," Qui-Gon replied, not yet able to draw his attention away from his companion's choice of food items. Amazing. Mundi had chosen the boiled tubers this morning. He was more brave than Qui-Gon thought.

"How are you feeling?"

See? Another reason he liked being a hermit. He didn't have to answer questions like that. Could no one think of something else to talk to him about?

"I am well, and you?"

"I find I am satisfactory this particular day, although I did wake up with some stiffness in my back. I suppose I need to talk to Supply about getting a new sleep-couch soon. Afterwards, I'll go visit the healers and see if they can..."

Qui-Gon had stopped listening to Ki-Adi's mundane chatter about the aches and pains of old age as soon as he had asked the question. There was something going on at the entrance to the commissary, which was far more interesting. Knights and padawans alike had gathered about the doorway. It took a moment for Qui-Gon to discover what the disturbance was, when he caught a glimpse of reddish-blonde hair amongst the mass of tunic-clad bodies.

Obi-Wan was back in the Temple. Anakin stood next to his side, talking quite animately with the gathering crowd.

He and Ki-Adi took a seat at the Master's tables, although Qui-Gon couldn't quite focus upon anything but the presence of his former padawan. They had arrived a tenth later than the council expected, but from what he understood, there had been complications. One of them being, Obi-Wan apparently had grown a beard, which was a good idea, Qui-Gon thought. It made the him look older and more distinguished, as a Jedi Master should. However, it also made him look severe and strict, which was not so good.

"What's all the excitement about?" he was forced to ask Mundi.

Ki-Adi leaned forward, his yellow eyes becoming bright with the news he was about to disclose. The Cerean loved his gossip. "Kenobi and Skywalker have discovered another Sith!"

That was the complication? Qui-Gon was certain his padawan could handle the situation. He'd done so before.

"The Master of the one we met on Naboo?"

"No," Mundi explained, leaning further in. "One of our own has turned to the dark side: Count Dooku."

Qui-Gon couldn't quite put that information into perspective. His old Master had turned? The last time he had heard from Dooku was during that mess on Vortex. The man had somehow become involved with the Banking Clan, but he hadn't seemed tainted to Qui-Gon, just financially motivated.

"Was there a confrontation?" he asked keeping his eyes on the crowd.

"Not directly. Apparently, before they could leave Naboo, Dooku's hired thugs kidnapped Senator Amidala and took her to Geonosis. Kenobi and Skywalker had to rescue her."

"Senator Amidala? Why would Dooku kidnap her?"

"Supposedly, there's some romantic interest between Skywalker and the senator. The Council is assuming Dooku is planning on using that information against Anakin in an effort to lure him away from Kenobi and the Jedi. The Chosen One would be a great addition to the Sith, would he not?"

Qui-Gon chose to focus on only one of Ki-Adi's comments - the one he was most interested in. The rest was simply rubbish. Anakin would never leave the Jedi to become a Sith! It was preposterous!

"Romantic interest? Is that so?" A wide grin spread across Qui-Gon's bearded face.

"Why are you smiling?" Ki-Adi seemed both shocked and curious.

"The dustcrepes are exceptional this morning," Qui-Gon quickly explained covering his emotional faux pas, taking a quick glance at his tray, hoping the specific food item was present.

"But you haven't even taken a bite of them."

"They smell exceptional. Excuse me, Ki-Adi."

Qui-Gon tool the opportunity to rise after noticing the crowd surrounding his padawan had dispersed. He walked toward Anakin, hoping to be able to congratulate the boy on a job well done. He would've congratulated them both, but once Obi-Wan had met his eye, his former padawan left the commissary entirely. Anakin, however, who had been beaming with excitement just a few moments ago as he relived his thrilling mission with his captive audience, turned sober, jerking his head in the opposite direction. Qui-Gon dutifully followed, overcome with the feeling he was about to experience an outburst of teenage angst.

"I can't do this!" the young man whispered loudly once they'd reached the hallway outside the commissary.

"From what I've heard," Qui-Gon noted, his hads confidently disappearing inside the sleeves of his robe, a slight smile appearing beneath his silvered moustache, "you've already done it." The older Jedi bit back the chuckle which threatened due to his creative play on words.

"You don't understand, Master!" Anakin continued, and for the first time, Qui-Gon looked beyond his own satisfaction to notice the boy was genuinely upset about something.

"What's troubling you?"

Here it came, thought Qui-Gon. He was in love with Senator Amidala too - which would mess up everything! It would provoke an emotional instability in Obi-Wan, in their working as well as personal relationship, and it wouldn't help mend his and Obi-Wan's relationship either.

"I don't know how to say this..."

The young man was reluctant, which could only mean bad news, and Qui-Gon steadied himself for it.

"Master Qui-Gon, my lightsaber doesn't swing that way."

The older man thought over Anakin's statement, puzzling his already quizzical brow. What does this have to do with his lightsaber?

"Pardon me?" he asked quietly, noticing the approach of a few padawans.

Anakin waited for the small group to enter the commissary and then whispered again. "I prefer outies, not innies."

He had no reply to that, since he didn't want to appear as naive and ignorant about the younger generation such as say...Master Mundi. There was a Jedi who had no clue what young ones were about these days. But apparently, he didn't either. He could tell by the way Anakin was staring at him expectantly, as if the young man were begging to not have to explain this any further.

But he was, because Qui-Gon was obviously experiencing a senior moment.

"Master Jinn!" the young man's voice had a definite whining quality to it; something Qui-Gon had not noticed before. It was quite irritating.

"What?"

The youth murmured something between his teeth, which was not discernible to his old ears.

"Anakin, you're going to have to speak up. I'm not a young knight any longer," he scolded the padawan, choosing to ignore the way the boy's eyes rolled toward the ceiling.

"I'm gay!"

He'd heard that. As had the half dozen Jedi walking down the hall.


	6. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven **

**"The Barber Shop" **

It had been a while since Qui-Gon had taken a good, long look in a mirror. Until now, he had had no concern about his outward appearance. If someone didn't like the way he looked, then they could just look the other way, in his opinion. But today, he stood in the small refresher of his temple apartment, and took in what the years and mileage had done to him.

There were lines in his face he couldn't recall seeing before, particularly around his eyes and mouth, but what was most shocking was the unkempt appearance of his beard and hair. They looked downright ragged. He couldn't recall the last time he had made it down to see the temple barber. Perhaps, until he did, he shouldn't be so judgmental.

No better time than the present, he decided, hanging up his robe on a hook next to his door and proceeding out it and down the hall.

The barber was one of the few non-Jedi who worked in the temple. His name was Remi and he had been filling the position since Qui-Gon had been in his early twenties. He was a small, kind man with a somewhat gentle and tender disposition, middle-aged by now, and as far as Qui-Gon knew, single.

"Bless my stars, if it isn't Master Jinn!" Remi announced jubilantly upon his arrival, abandoning his present customer to kiss the air on either side of Qui-Gon's face. "Why, I haven't seen you since they outlawed gundarks in the arena! What brings you in today, my friend?"

Qui-Gon had never noticed the lisp before, and the tips of Remi's hair were so blond they were nearly white. And were those cosmetics around his eyes? Glitter on his eyelids and jewelry in his ear?

"It's time," Qui-Gon replied with a sharp nod of his head, meeting the barber's wide, green-eyed, gaze.

"Holy midichlorians!" Remi shouted out, flinging his hand back and snapping his fingers. "Telusa! Take care of Master Rancisis for me! I've got the makeover of a lifetime in my hands!"

Before Qui-Gon could change his mind, his head had been washed, scrubbed, his beard trimmed and then shaved completely off. It was only then, the exuberant worker spun him around in his chair and met his terrified gaze. "Are you sure about this?" he questioned.

No, he wasn't sure, but there was no turning back now.

"Proceed," he said simply, causing Remi to bare a grand display of gold and jewel-encrusted teeth.

"You will not regret this, Master Jinn, let me promise you! It's going to take at least twenty years off you. My, if I could tell you all the times I've said to Telusa, 'Telusa, girl, if only Master Jinn would let me trim that wild mane of his,' and here you are! I can't tell you how thrilled I am that you're finally allowing me to do this..."

The entire time Remi worked, he talked, while Qui-Gon closed his eyes and attempted a serenity meditation. He could occasionally feel a lock of shorn hair fall against his face and the scrape of comb across his scalp, but he was mostly aware of the snipping sound of the scissors in Remi's hand, which seemed continuously moving over his head.

"...and just the other day, you wouldn't believe who came strutting through my door like she owned the place. That stuck-up Master Yaddle with all her superiority, thinking she's all that and a bag of Gems. Mark my words, one of these days I'll say to her, 'If you don't adjust that attitude of yours, Miss Thing, especially when you come into my shop, I'll be telling everyone in this palace that what's on your head ain't nothin' but ratty old extensions from an Ewok's ass!' Mm, hm, that's what I says to her. Telosa, girl, look at this stud I've uncovered! Gorgeous! That Master Kenobi better watch out! There's a new man in the Jedi Temple!"

Qui-Gon felt the chair spin again and then the warmth of Remi's breath next to his ear. "See for yourself, Master Jinn."

He was afraid to look. Of all the ridiculous things to be afraid of, but he had no choice. One at a time, Qui-Gon pried his eyes opened and indeed beheld what Remi had mentioned earlier. He hadn't seen the skin of his chin in several decades, and his hair hadn't been this short since he was a padawan. But it wasn't a padawan cut, it was something different. It was cut short at the nape, but long enough on the top to run his fingers through.

He did appear remarkably much younger than he had when he walked in, which was important only for one purpose; to assist him in the next step of his strategy to romantically join Senator Amidala and his padawan. If he were going to succeed, he was going to need to look as dashing as possible.

"You've done well, Remi," he encouraged the man who was beaming in the mirror from behind.

"If you hadn't noticed, I washed away some of those nasty grays too." As Remi talked, he flicked the shortened ends of Qui-Gon's hair with his fingers, admiring his work.

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said before he was dusted of any stray hair and allowed to stand. One glance at the floor, however, told him why Remi's scissors had worked so diligently. It looked as if a Wookie had died there.

Now, all he had to do was visit Temple Supply and pick up a new uniform. His present one had definitely seen better days.

As he walked in that direction, he couldn't help but notice the open-mouth stares and shocked expressions on everyone's faces he passed, and had that young female padawan just winked at him? If so, then it encouraged him enough to proceed with his plan. By the time he was finished, Senator Amidala would never know what hit her.


	7. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight **

**"First Date" **

It had taken much longer to complete than he had intended, but the process of creating a thorough plan weighing all contingencies takes time. Qui-Gon was wise enough to realize this, but it didn't stop his thoughts from being occasionally frazzled by worry, or his stomach from tying itself in knots. It had been many years since he had seduced a woman. He used to be good at it, but that was when he was a senior padawan. During times of recollections of his youth, he often wondered if perhaps his successes had been due to his stature. He had been tall for his age, often being mistaken for being much older than he actually was. Because of these faulty assumptions, he had been able to enter rather seedy establishments probably before he should've, although he had done so with his Master's approval. The experiences had allowed Qui-Gon to gain early insights when it came to matters pertaining to women that his peers of his own age had not acquired. He just hoped his age was not going to interfere now, by stealing away away his memories of how to go about the process.

Senator Padme Amidala was, if anything, habitual. Qui-Gon had studied her routine for several days in order to make their first meeting appear to be a coincidence. She arrived in her office at the Galactic Senate building promptly at 8:30 a.m., drank a cup of caff with two helpings of sweetener and one of cream at 9:15. At 11:30, she would leave her offices to dine with her aid in the building's cafe, which was located on the lowest level, where she would sit in the table farthest in the southern corner next to the window overlooking Valorum Park. She would dine on light fare consisting of vegetables and fish, and would always drink another caff afterward. She never ordered dessert.

Intergalactic Cafe was where Qui-Gon planned on intercepting her, but he had to ensure they would be alone. He had never had much success with flirtation in front of an audience, even as a youth. It was why her aid, Dorme, was going to be ill on this particular day. Nothing serious. Just a mild case of overactive digestion. She would be fine in less than 24 hours. The apothecary guaranteed it.

He wiped the nervous sweat which had gathered upon his palms on the dark cloth of his new pair of leggings, which were stiff and uncomfortable, and adjusted his stola before conducting a survey of the establishment. It was 11:25. She would be here soon, and the tea he had ordered was almost gone.

At 11:29, he caught a glimpse of her exiting the main lift, and lifted his cup to drain the rest of the liquid before dropping a credit on the table and rising to move her way. His plan was simple. The cafe was crowded, as he had expected, and an accidental bump into her would not be totally surprising. At least, she didn't seem to think so, when she spun around, ready to apologize to whomever, her dark eyes widening with another type of astonishment.

"Master Jinn! I'm sorry. I didn't see you standing there."

He had expected her to say something about the changes in his appearance, but her eyes spoke the words she did not, and he lifted one corner of his mouth with a grin, intentionally lowering his voice. "No apologies necessary, mi'lady. The cafe is overly crowded today."

"You come here often?"

He maintained his grin as well as his eye contact. "I've been here a few times," he told her, keeping the fact his visits had only occurred within the past two weeks to himself. Qui-Gon paused, waiting for the response he was sure would come. Padme Amidala was known for her sophisticated mannerisms and a friendly disposition. He was counting on that knowledge, certain she would not disappoint him.

"Have you had mid meal yet?"

The other corner of his mouth drifted up. "No, not yet."

"Then, please join me. I prefer not to eat alone, and my aid has taken ill today."

"I hope it's nothing serious," Qui-Gon replied while looking over her head and nodding to the head waiter, who followed his previous directions by escorting them both to the senator's regular table.

"I don't think so. Probably just something she ate."

He pulled out her chair before seating himself across from her.

"Give her my regards."

"I will, thank you," she replied before the expected lull in conversation occurred. He chose to remain silent and wait, watching her closely as she glanced about the crowded room. He hadn't really paid that much attention to Padme Amidala since the Naboo mission. His first impression of her back then was that she was perhaps too young to rule an entire planet, but her actions and firm decisions during moments of extreme stress had proven him wrong. She was a born leader, and he had to admit a rather attractive human female. His padawan had good taste. The years which had passed since then had only improved her appearance, in his opinion.

"I already know what I'm ordering. Do you have a favorite?" she finally broke the ice by handing him a menu readily available.

Qui-Gon replaced the menu back in its holder at the end of the table and leaned forward slightly, to initiate a more intimate conversation. "Whatever you're having is fine."

"You trust me that much?" Her full lips stretched into a wide grin.

"I don't typically allow my dates to order for me." Qui-Gon crossed his arms on the table, within just a few centimeters from her own.

Padme chuckled nervously and placed her hands onto her lap. "Your date, huh? So, this is a date?"

"You're the one who asked me," he pointed out. "An offer, which I gladly accepted, by the way."

Qui-Gon noticed a slight pink hue which was creeping up her neck and he relaxed a little. This was going to be easier than he had initially believed.

She changed the subject, as expected. "I'm having the grilled spinefish and mixed herb roots. Does that sound all right?"

"That sounds perfect," he responded, while accepting the iced water from a waiter. "And to answer your earlier question, yes, I do trust you. Over the nine years I've known you, you've done nothing to make me do otherwise, unless, of course, you wish to change my mind."

Her brows lowered in confusion, but Qui-Gon chose to ignore that for now. He would continue as planned, although perhaps speak a little more intentionally. Their first meeting was going to be short, but he was sure she would warm up to the idea of him - of them, or perhaps the possibility of them - in time.

"So...how have you been, Master Jinn?"

"Padme, after everything we've been though, you really should refer to me as Qui-Gon."

The lowered brows made another appearance. "I'd rather not," she stated bluntly.

"This isn't a mission, and I'm not here on business."

"Why are you here?" she asked, all traces of giddiness erased from her face.

"I was just passing through and happened to run into you. Literally, as a matter of fact. How lucky am I?"

She looked at him suspiciously and then laughed softly while toying with the napkin on her lap. "I thought Jedi didn't believe in luck."

"I didn't wish to overwhelm you with the philosophies of Force intervention on our first date."

She was uncomfortable. He wasn't blind. He would have to be careful from this point forward.

"The lack of facial hair was enough to overwhelm me, Mast...Qui-Gon," she teased.

"It's a change, isn't it?" he ruffled his hair with his fingers. "I would be interested in hearing your opinion of it."

"You, uhm.." the typically well-spoken senator stammered, "you look younger. I can say that much."

"That's good. Perhaps, I now look my age?" he asked, prompting further conversation on the subject from her.

"Perhaps, if I knew how old you were."

"Does it matter?" Qui-Gon responded, casually leaning his chin onto one propped hand, not straying his gaze from her face. "I've always felt when it comes to physical attraction, age is inconsequential. I was much older than my first love, and she never had any complaints. Some women prefer men with more...experience." To put emphasis on the final word, he tilted his head and grinned at her, and the pink hue creeping up her neck darkened slightly.

"Let's order," she announced suddenly, immediately lifting a finger to hail the wait staff.

The time it took for their meal to be delivered, Padme had mostly spent in the ladies' fresher, and when their food had arrived, Qui-Gon noticed she ate hers rather quickly.

"I can't believe I'm already full!" she noted when her dish was only halfway finished. "I guess I shouldn't have had such a big first meal." Her excuse was spoken into a small pouch she had retrieved from her cloak. However, Qui-Gon put a halt to her actions by reaching across the table and touching the skin of her forearm, causing her to jump in her seat.

"Don't worry about it, Padme. I've got this." The credits were already in his hand and he placed them on the table.

"Oh no, I couldn't let you do that," she argued, continuing to dig into the velvety bag.

"It's done," Qui-Gon confirmed upon rising. "Let's just say you owe me. I'll let you know how and when you can repay me," he said with a wink and another brush of his hand against her bare shoulder.

He walked out of establishment with a smile upon his face, but he was walking out alone. Their meeting hadn't gone as well as he had hoped, but he felt he had made his intentions clear. Their next meeting, he would know how to play of her reactions better, now that he knew what to expect. His forwardness had surprised her, but Qui-Gon was confident he would be successful. In no time, Obi-Wan would be burning with jealousy and would finally realize how much he cared about the woman.

By the Force, yes. Things were going exactly as he had hoped.


	8. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine **

**"No Appointment Necessary"**

Qui-Gon couldn't quite get used to the absence of his long hair. True, the sink in the 'fresher didn't get clogged as often, he didn't wake up with strands of it in his mouth any more, and his early morning ablutions didn't take nearly as much time as they used to, but he discovered that while tossing his head about, he missed the feeling of it against the nape of his neck and face. It had given him comfort in some odd way, and had made him feel distinguished, set apart from other Masters. Maybe he should allow it to grow out again. But then, he actually was enjoying the appreciative glances he was receiving, and would honestly miss them.

Damn. Maybe he needed to have his testosterone levels checked the next time he was forced to go to the healers. Since when did he care about his looks? Especially the length of his hair? He had allowed it to get that long in the first place due to his lack of concern. Obi-Wan was the only one who had ever given him grief about it, often asking him if it ever got in his way during a battle, didn't it make his head hot?

He had to admit it did feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders once it'd been cut, and there was often a soothing coolness drifting along his bare neck he couldn't remember experiencing before. Maybe he would keep it this way, he decided, dropping a fresh cube of nerf into the mouth of the carnivorous plant he favored.

"What do you think, Dina? Should I keep it like this or let it grow?" Qui-Gon paused, watching with wonder as the morsel disentegrated within the plant's toothy trap.

"Talking to plants now, I see. Honestly, Qui-Gon, I'm beginning to wonder about you."

He was beginning to wonder about himself. He hadn't heard his front door open.

"Your door wasn't shut all the way, so I let myself in," Mace Windu explained, taking a seat across from him. The man looked worn out, but Qui-Gon supposed being a member of the Council was responsible. He couldn't imagine having to sit and listen to arguments between Mundi, Windu and Yoda for hours on end.

"You look tired, my friend."

"Just finished with an all-nighter."

And there it was, in a nutshell. The main reason he had refused the offered position: Spending the entire night listening to the Council? He would rather dine with a sarlaac.

"Anything I need to be made aware of?" Qui-Gon asked with genuine concern. There was something in his friend's eyes which spoke not only of weariness, but disappointment. Something was going on. "Is it the Sith? Anakin? Come on man, what is it?"

"It's you, Qui-Gon. I'm afraid Senator Amidala has contacted Master Kenobi, and he has brought his concerns to the council."

What concerns? He didn't understand. No one knew about his involvement in the threat of the senator except for Anakin and Mace, and he was sure neither one of them had broken his trust.

"Did you dine with Senator Amidala the other day?"

Now, he was even more confused. Since when was it a crime to dine with a friend?

"And did you..." the other man paused dramatically, "did you actually attempt to flirt with her?"

Uh oh. "Listen, Mace. I know it seems odd, but..."

"Odd? It seems odd? Are you serious? You scared her to death! What were you thinking?"

"I know what I'm doing!" Qui-Gon defended his actions, leaning forward on his knees to match the other man's more aggressive posture. "You're going to have to trust me."

"My trust is not your concern. I'm not the one who has an issue with you right now."

"Who does?" He knew the answer to his question before he had even heard it. "Mundi?"

"He's not your biggest fan, and you know it. I can't understand why you continue to put yourself in situations like this. You're smarter than this!"

"All I did was have mid meal with the woman! We enjoyed some light conversation. That's all."

"That's not what she told Master Kenobi." Mace's voice softened and for the first time, Qui-Gon shift uncomfortably. "She said you insinuated you two were on a date. A romantic date. And that you would soon have another, and that she owed you a favor - one which you planned on collecting soon. She said you made it sound...sexual. Qui-Gon, have you lost your mind?"

Oh, Force. The older Jedi fell back against the couch and scrubbed a beard he no longer had. "Mace, I'm not the one who's losing it. Apparently, she is. I made no such advances. We participated in a little innocent flirting. No harm was done."

He was staring at him now without speaking, which made Qui-Gon more nervous than he already was. Everyone in the Temple knew Master Windu was a man of few words, but rarely was he ever as silent as he was now. Mace had always shared his opinion quite freely, especially when he thought he was in the right.

When the man finally did decide to speak, the words which came out of his mouth were the last ones Qui-Gon expected to hear.

"Master Yoda wishes for you to report to the healers for a psychological evaluation, Qui-Gon. This evening at 0700. They'll be expecting you."

Damn.


	9. Chapter 1

**Title: **U-Turn

**Author: **Ticklesivory

**Rating: **T

**Summary: ** Experiences and training have shaped Obi-Wan into the man he has become, but his Master sees a problem with that, and is going to try and fix it. FYI: This is a QUI-GON ISN'T DEAD story! Yay!

**Main Characters: **Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padme Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Mace Windu

**Genre: ** Romance, Comedy, Sarcasm - don't think that's an actual genre, but it should be!

**Warnings: **Well...that depends how you feel about Anakin. I'm going to mess with him, and if you're a big fan, you might be offended. Hope not. This is just for fun after all!

**Note: **Gonna try something new and title the chapters. A challenge for me, since I usually have difficulty coming up with a name for a entire fic!

* * *

**Chapter One **

**"Bad News from a Bottle" **

"Come on in Mace, I was just about to brew some tea."

The Senior Master and Jedi Council member entered the familiar quarters, ducking his head out of the way of an overgrown plant, which was hanging down from the ceiling. The man's home was a regular arboretum. He half expected to see a tree growing through the middle of the floor one of these days.

"Got anything stronger than tea?" he hollered toward the kitchen while taking a seat once he was sure nothing was growing in it.

"I have some Bendbelly Dark, or if you'd like something stronger, a bottle of Dornean brandy."

He couldn't afford things like brandy, especially Dornean, and he often wondered how Qui-Gon Jinn acquired such extravagances, although he had never asked. As a member of the Council, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that question.

"The Bendbelly's fine," he replied, receiving a chilled glass of the dark ale in short order.

Qui-Gon gently eased himself down on a sofa across from him. Next to sofa was a table, which displayed a strange-looking plant specimen he could swear had fangs.

"Tell me what brings you by, Mace."

The liquor was malted and smooth. It had been a while since he'd allowed himself the pleasure of an alcoholic drink, but he felt he needed some liquid courage if he was going to be able to get out what he'd come here to say.

"Can a man never visit an old friend without all this suspicion?" His words hadn't fooled the other Jedi for a second. A single eyebrow shot up as Qui-Gon silently sipped his steaming mug of tea.

Mace leaned back to gain a more comfortable position and enjoyed another swig from his own glass, observing the variety of colorful, flowering plants displayed on a shelf on the far wall he hadn't noticed before. "Are those new?" he asked, nodding his head in the wall's general direction, and noticing Qui-Gon didn't fall for that either.

"You and I both know you have no interest in intergalactic botany. Why don't you save us both some time and tell me what brings you here today."

"You're looking good, Qui-Gon," Mace stalled some more, "the physical therapy worked out for you after all?"

When Qui-Gon set his mug upon the table, carefully avoiding the fanged plant, and made a deliberate show of crossing his arms to show his defiance, Mace knew his bluff had been called.

"Fine," he said before finishing his drink. "I've come to talk to you about Anakin."

"What's wrong with him? Is he all right?"

Mace smiled knowingly and set his own empty glass upon the floor. There was no way he getting anywhere near a plant that had teeth.

He knew Qui-Gon had always had a soft spot for young Skywalker, which was one of the reasons why he was here. "He's perfectly fine, I assure you," Mace noted quickly, erasing the line of worry which had etched itself between the other Jedi's brows. "However, we are concerned, Master Yoda and I, that perhaps he's not being..."

Damn! What was wrong with him? He'd practiced this speech several times on the way over. It must be the ale. He shouldn't have drank the ale...

"Go ahead," Qui-Gon prompted.

"We're concerned that Obi-Wan may be raising him with too strong a hand. As you are fully aware of, Anakin's situation is unique, not only because he's considered to be the Chosen One, but because you discovered him so late in life. He had aleady bonded with his mother, had already developed certain beliefs and philosophies that we had no control of..."

"I understand all of this, Mace," Qui-Gon said, cutting him short. Thankfully.

"It's just that...well...we believe Master Kenobi may not be handling him properly, and we were wondering if there was some way you could talk to him about that. Perhaps, mentor him just a little? I know it's a lot for us to ask, considering your history and the circumstances..."

"Mace."

By all the Force, he had never said so much at one time in his life! How he had let Yoda talk him into this, he couldn't fathom. "Yeah?"

"Stop, before you have a conniption. I'll figure something out."

"Thanks. Thanks, Qui-Gon. You're a good man."

"And Mace?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time, don't down a whole glass of Bendbelly like that. It's more potent than you think."

"Oh." Mace replied. That would explain why the plant on the table was now smiling at him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten **

**"Don't Let the Door Hit You"**

Examination of one's mind was a ritual to be performed during meditations upon the Force. He participated in the activity on a regular basis, and frankly, the Force had recently informed him there was nothing wrong with his mental capacities - despite what Ki-Adi Mundi believed. Allowing mind healers to evaluate his psyche just wasn't going to happen. If there was a problem, then he could fix it himself.

And he was going to do just that, in a very short time: Before Yoda sent the Council's bounty hunters out looking for him when they discovered he had missed his appointment, that is.

He and Padme went way back. Why, she had trusted him with her very life! Surely, a casual visit to her home wouldn't be completely out of line. If only she would allow him a chance to explain his actions, Qui-Gon was sure he could make her understand the reasons behind them. Surely, he could make her see his intention, and perhaps, she would be sympathetic to his cause and forgive him for any missteps he may have taken with her. Although he couldn't understand what he could've done that was so bad. When it came to suitors, she could do much worse than him. Couldn't she?

He was at her door now, and so there was no more time to convince himself he had either made another bad choice, or he was doing the right thing. The Force was unusually silent on the matter. Strange.

He rang the chime outside her door and waited. And then waited some more. Perhaps she wasn't inside. He hadn't thought of that. One more ring would make the decision whether to stay or leave, but before his finger had activated the device again, her door slid open. It wasn't Padme who made an appearance, however. It was her personal aid, Dorme.

"May I help you, Master Jinn?"

"I'd like to speak with the senator."

"I'm afraid she isn't available at the moment."

"Is she home?"

"Why, yes, but..."

"Then, I demand an audience with her."

"I, uh..That won't be...uh..."

From behind the female obstruction came a voice. "Dorme, just forget it. Let him in."

Qui-Gon discovered Padme standing in the common room of her luxury apartment. She was surrounded by tranquil colors and comfortable furniture, but she appeared to be anything but comfortable. In fact, she seemed quite guarded, and perhaps even nervous. In light of his survey, Qui-Gon stopped far from his destination, standing just at the edge of the plush lilac carpet upon her floor.

"Good evening, Senator," he began with a low bow.

"Why don't you take a seat? Would you like something to drink?"

All right he needed to adjust his initial defense. He wasn't expecting her hospitality. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

"No, thank you. I won't be long. I just wanted to stop by and.."

"Dorme, why don't you return to your duties?"

She had interrupted his explanation, which was unsual, he thought. He couldn't understand what was causing her to be so jittery, but he was able to interpret the visual byplay going on between the two women. He had to make this quick before Temple Security showed up.

"The other day when I met you in the cafe, I'm afraid you got the wrong impression."

"What impression would that be, Master Jinn?"

"You see, I'd been watching you for several days and knew you'd be at the cafe. Hell, I even knew what you were going to order," he chuckled, sure that she would join in with him once he had explained everything. "So, I decided to meet you there, but things didn't turn out as I had planned, and..."

During their conversation, she had maneuvered her way behind one of the gold chairs at the opposite end of the rug. He guessed it was because he was still standing. He'd been told his size was rather intimidating. Often, during negotiations, he had used that to his advantage, but at times like this, it served as a hindrance. He took her earlier advice and sat down.

"To shorten a long story, I'm afraid you may have mistakenly believed I was toying with your affections..."

"My affections?" she repeated. "Master Jinn, I have always held a deep respect for you - for what you did on Naboo and for being Obi-Wan's Master, but I have never been affectionate toward you. And I never will be."

Hold on. "I realize that. Now. But I was hoping, if perhaps I could convince you to see me as something other than a Jedi Master, but as a man, that perhaps Obi-Wan would.."

"I think you need to leave, Master Jinn," she interrupted him again, her eyes glancing toward the doorway.

This wasn't going as well as he had hoped. "Wait! Just let me explain. You see, it was all a ploy to..."

He didn't even have a chance to finish his sentence.

When you have traveled the galaxy and encountered literally millions of sentient beings, from the most technologically advanced to the most primitive, there was one thing you could always count on. The sound a blaster made when being armed and aimed in your direction was unmistakable.

Qui-Gon turned his head slowly to encounter Padme's grim head of security, Captain Typho.

"Master Jinn? I'm afraid you've worn out your welcome here. You need to leave, as the Senator has already requested of you."

Damn.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven **

**"Fight or Flee" **

The aches and pains, which typically accompany old age had crept upon Qui-Gon with as much stealth as the most highly trained Jedi, and before he had realized it, his joints had begun refusing to cooperate, not seeming to want to bend like they used to. His vision had become limited as well, and his hearing was somewhat impaired. The injury on Naboo had only sped up an already natural-occuring process, the temple therapist had told him. He would soon experience chronic back pain, difficulties urinating, and possibly even develop asthma.

He could deal with all of that. In fact, he hadn't expected to live this long. It was difficult to find a Jedi Master of advanced years in the Temple.

Unless they were a member of the Council, of course, and spent their days bickering behind closed doors, instead of being out in the field risking life and limb.

Unlike a certain council member, whom he refused to name, Qui-Gon tried not to complain about his limitations. He had decided long ago to silently cope with them instead.

But here...here in the fourth floor training salle, in the early morning hours of the day, with the first rays of the Coruscant sun filtering through the overhead sky-windows, his concerns regarding his disabilities simply disappeared. Here, he could allow the Force to flow through his body, basically eliminating any physical limitations he had acquired along his long career. His lightsaber became an extension of his hand, his legs carried him as they had in his youth and lifted him from the ground as if he weighed no more than a feather. His vision was clearer, his hearing more acute. Embraced by its power, all of his senses were heightened. Here, he could get as close to the Force as possible, without actually becoming One with it.

To the observer, it would appear as if he were simply going through an advanced form of Ataru, his preferred fighting style, but to Qui-Gon, he was free.

Oblivious to his surroundings, the Jedi Master's sword became a blur as it swung against its imaginary opponents, attacking from all directions, at every possible angle. As each invisible victim fell, Qui-Gon became more focused, his fighting more intense, until he was performing aerial feats he hadn't attempted in years. He was a deadly warrior. He was a winged predator soaring through the air in search of his next meal.

He was lying flat on his face.

What in the hell...?

Whomever had disturbed his concentration, had done so with such abruptness, he hadn't been prepared for it. The disturbance in the Force had been so great, he figured the Sith had somehow made their way into the Temple, and one of them was in the salle with him now. He must prepare his mind for battle.

But first, he had to get off the floor.

Suddenly, a pair of hands lifted him up. Before drawing his attention to confirm who his rescuer was, a quiet voice in his mind informed him it wasn't a Sith after all. It was something much worse.

When he turned around to see with his own eyes, he discovered his padawan glaring at him.

"Are you injured?"

Qui-Gon attempted to hide his surprise. The question was reminiscent of caring and it immediately rushed forward fond memories. No one had ever taken better care of him than Obi-Wan.

"I do not believe so. Thank you."

He had seen this look in Obi-Wan's eyes a few times in the past, when his apprentice had become frustrated or upset. Typically as a youth, the young man would allow his emotions to flow freely, and he would rant and rave about this or that. Time, however, seemed to have affected Obi-Wan as much as it had himself, only in a more positive way. His Padawan had grown up. No longer did he allow his anger to control his actions or his words.

"Why in the hell are you bothering Senator Amidala?"

Although, he could be wrong. The words were spit from the younger man's mouth while his eyes burned within in their sockets.

"Obi-Wan, if you'll give me a chance to explain..."

"She said you've been flirting with her? Have you lost your senses? I contacted the council, hoping they would have you sent to the healers. You definitely need to get your head examined if you think you even have a chance..."

"Padawan..."

"Don't call me that."

Maybe he shouldn't have practiced such an advanced stage of lightsaber drills. It had been too taxing. There was a pain right in the center of his chest.

"You don't have the right. Not any longer. I'm a Knight now, and I have a padawan of my own, whom I treat with respect by the way."

"I know that," Qui-Gon cut in. He was aware there were some painful issues being harbored inside, which Obi-Wan needed to let out. If only it didn't hurt him so badly in the process. But, this wasn't about him. This was about his padawan. "I've watched you with Anakin, and you've done well. I'm proud of you, Obi-Wan."

Even as a youth, Obi-Wan had never worn skepticism very well. It simply didn't suit him.

"I don't care what you think. I just want you to leave Padme alone. Just stay away from her."

A veiled threat. How very interesting. Qui-Gon had never been one to turn down a challenge.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Then you leave me no choice."

He wasn't sure what was about to happen. It had been a few years since he had fought Obi-Wan in battle, and from what he'd heard, his student had improved dramatically. And even though, he wasn't in the best of health, if a fight is what Obi-Wan needed to clear his head, then so be it. Qui-Gon would do whatever it took to help his beloved student.

His hand was inching toward his weapon, when Obi-Wan quickly withdrew a folded parchment, immediately stabbing it into his chest.

That was the second time in the last few days he'd been blindsided by paper. Some warrior he'd turned out to be.

"What's this?"

"Read it."

Qui-Gon obeyed his student, unfolding what appeared to be a legitimate and legalistic-appearing document, signed by Master Yoda and Chancellor Palpatine. At the top of the form were the worrds, "Ex Parte Order of Protection," and they caused the pain which had been in his chest earlier to sink to the pit of his stomach. The petitioner of the action was none other than Senator Amidala, and he, Qui-Gon Jinn, had been listed as the Respondent. A hearing had been set for 0900 the following day in Chancellor Palpatine's main office suite.

Qui-Gon had fought battles where it seemed as if there was no way to win. He had stood against countless draigons when the odds were clearly against him. However, he knew when it was time to call a truce.

And this was it. This was getting ridiculous, and it was time to put an end to it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**"Minimal Expectations" **

Following his last mission as an active Jedi, while lying in Theed Infirmary, tubes sticking out of every natural orifice of his body, as well as some unnatural ones, Qui-Gon had imagined how his life would be after he was healed. Would he be able to return to the field? Or would he, should he, accept the ever-persistent request by the Jedi Council to join their ranks? He hadn't been sure. Foreseeing the future was not a talent the Force had chosen to bestow upon him.

During his recovery, however, he had tried his best to stay positive. Even after the conversation with his padawan, he had kept his hopes high. At the time, though, he hadn't realized that event would damage their relationship. He had actually expected his student to come around to his point of view.

But he hadn't, and Qui-Gon discovered he was never too old to learn a lesson: In order to achieve and maintain a lasting sense of peace and serenity in this life, he needed to lower his expectations. By doing so, he would never again be disappointed. Would he?

However, when it came to his Obi-Wan, he was helpless, and could not help but keep his expectations high. He had only wanted what was best for his padawan, and deep in his heart, he knew Senator Amidala fit that mold. No one could blame him for having tried to help them get together, could they? If only they would give him the chance to explain! But perhaps the time for explanations was past. He had witnessed these Ex Parte hearings before. Unless represented by a member of the Galactic Judicial System, rarely did the Respondent have the opportunity to defend themselves. He would do his best, but in accordance with his new philosophy of life; he wasn't expecting much success. For one reason, he was representing himself.

No, sir. Things were not going to go well today. His good intentions were about to be put on trial, as well as his age and poor decisions being put on display. In front of the Supreme Chancellor, to boot.

What was the point of that, anyway? Most petitions such as this were presented in the Galactic Courthouse, not in Palpatine's study. It was all highly irregular. He supposed it was because he was a Jedi, and therefore the Chancellor believed he was doing the Jedi a favor, protecting them from such an embarrassing display by allowing the proceedings to take place in a more discrete location.

Not that it mattered.

Nope. The best he could possibly hope for was to given a chance to apologize, defend his actions by claiming senility, agree to report to the healers to have his every thought scrutinized, and leave there with his tail tucked neatly and firmly between his legs. It would put an end to all of this once and for all, and it was a sacrifice he was willing to make - for the sake of his padawan.

Keeping his well-shorn head held high, Qui-Gon announced his arrival to the receptionist in the antechamber just outside his destination. He couldn't help but notice the smirky grin which appeared across the young woman's face as he did so.

Great. He was sure by the time this was over, his name would be plastered all across the Holonet.

"Courts Declare Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn a Lunatic," it would say, just above an article detailing every embarrassing event of the past three days.

Fine. That would do just fine. It was the worse thing which could possibly happen to him. He could foresee no disappointment now.

However, when the double doors opened wide and he saw all who were present inside the grand suite, Qui-Gon determined that once again, and far too frequently of late, he was wrong. Present inside the room were not only the Supreme Chancellor and Galactic City's Chief Justice, but Master Yoda, Master Windu, Mas Amedda, Anakin, Obi-Wan and the senator's aid, Dorme, although Padme Amidala was nowhere to be seen. He had no idea who the others were, although they appeared to be from Naboo, but he determined the others were there to witness to the evidence that he, Qui-Gon Jinn, at the ripe old age of 71, was a doddering, old fool.

A second glance nevertheless, was even more confusing than the first. He suddenly felt entirely under-dressed for the occasion. Why hadn't he worn his clean uniform?

Even more curious was the fact everyone was smiling at him.

Is this what he should expect now that he was about to be declared among the infirm? Would all those who used to look up to him, now look at him with pity and sympathy, secretly hoping their last days would be more favorable than his own? Would they even remember what he used to be? That there were very few who could stand toe to toe with him in the battlefield, and that he had taken first place ten years running in the senior lightsaber competition?

Or would they only remember the 'senior' part? "Poor Qui-Gon," he could hear them whisper even now. "I hear they're moving him to the geriatric ward and he's only allowed to eat mashed tubers," while another would comment on how he should try to look his age."

Suddenly, a seat on the Council didn't sound so bad.

"Master Jinn, get your fine buns in here!"

A voice with a hint of lisp sounded out from a corner he hadn't observed yet, and doing so now revealed his favorite barber, all primed, primped, and grinning from bejeweled ear to bejeweled ear.

"Remi?" he heard himself mutter, although the room had taken on a fish-bowl effect, where everyone's faces seemed larger than their bodies, and their voices were shallow and muted. What did Remi have to do with any of this?

He didn't have time to even ask the question before the rather energetic man leapt forward, grabbing ahold of his arm, dragging him away from the crowd and toward another doorway.

"Holy midichlorians, will you hurry? We don't have much time! The ceremony's about to begin! Telusa!" Remi yelled out into the room they hadn't even entered yet. "Girl, did you get the right one? You know, the one without all those nasty burn marks? Well then, come on! We've got to get a move on! I swear, don't make me swear!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen **

**"Beyond Expectations"**

"Stop struggling."

"You are aware, I am completely capable of dressing myself."

His words and constant squirming did nothing to stop Remi and his assistant from changing his attire as if he was a newborn in the creche.

"You can't go in there wearing that shabby suit with all these holes and stains, and look at these hems!" Remi shoved the edge of his tunic toward his face while making a clucking sound with his tongue, and Qui-Gon had to agree, the hem was showing a bit of wear and tear. But it was so comfortable!

Temple Supply had issued him a new uniform recently, but he hadn't felt the need to put it on for a private hearing, and he told Remi so.

"A hearing? Stop acting so daft, mister! Unless...You really don't know, do you?" A hand flew up to stifle the younger man's laughter, but Qui-Gon didn't see what was so damn funny.

"I'm sorry, Master Jedi," the flamboyant but handsome barber apologized before resuming his previous tasks of tucking, pulling, and lint-picking, while his assistant applied some type of gel-like substance to his hair. "Surely, you would wish to be presentable when giving your padawan away."

"What are talking about?"

Qui-Gon noticed a sparkle highlighting the white flecks in Remi's pale eyes just before he was spun around to face none other than his padawan, himself.

"Come on Telusa."

Remi's assistant followed reluctantly, although Qui-Gon couldn't understand her reluctance or why she would have tears in her eyes. In fact, he couldn't understand anything. Give his padawan away? Did that mean... Was Obi-Wan going to...?

"Master."

This may be the most confusing and stressful day of his life, but hearing Obi-Wan say that one word worked as well as six hours of meditation would. But why? What had changed so dramatically in just a day? Had someone explained to Obi-Wan why he'd been acting so strangely lately? If that were true, he was truly grateful to them, although embarrassed as hell.

"I'm aware," Obi-Wan began, "we've lured you here under false pretenses, but you have to admit, you had it coming."

"So you knew?" He was mortified. Had he done all this for nothing? Were Obi-Wan and Padme together this entire time? He couldn't imagine anything more humiliating, although...his goal had been achieved, and that was what he wanted, wasn't it? No matter the cost to his pride. It would explain as well, why Senator Amidala had shunned his advances. He'd never had such an experience with a woman before.

Before his padawan explained any further, though, there was one thing he had to get off his chest.

"Obi-Wan, I want to apologize, for the things I said to you in Theed..."

"Qui-Gon, you don't have to. And besides, we don't really have time. Just know that although I don't always approve of your methods, I do trust you, and your plans are usually successful. From a certain point of view."

"So, you're saying you and the senator are a couple?"

"Not just that, Master. We're getting married. Today! That's what we're all here for. Even Padme's family have flown in from Naboo..."

"But how did you...? When did you...?" What was the point in asking questions when he couldn't even get them out? The best thing he could do was shut up and let Obi-Wan explain.

"Not as early as you think. I'll have to make this short because everyone's waiting, but during all your mischief, Padme came to me for help. You had her worried, but I've known you long enough to figure you were up to something, so I investigated. It's because of you, we started talking again, and well...realized we were still in love. So..."

What a relief. Wait until Mace heard about this! His plan had worked after all!

Qui-Gon quickly stood to his feet, a newfound energy adding strength to his aching joints. "Well, what are we waiting for? We have a wedding to attend!"

* * *

Pride is not a Jedi characteristic. There are numerous Force mantras to perform to rid one's mind of the unwanted emotion. However, when Qui-Gon stood next to his padawan as he pledged his life to Padme Amidala, the Jedi Master could not help but feel his chest swell. Just a bit. He would meditate on it later, as well as the evils of boasting. Now that the ceremony was complete and the reception had begun, there was someone he wished to speak to: The particular Jedi Master talking to Chancellor Palpatine, as a matter of fact.

"Excuse me, Chancellor, but may I have a word with Master Windu?"

Once assured the leader was out of hearing range, Qui-Gon allowed a wide celebratory smile to spread across his face. Mace's responding one was more like a smirk.

"Don't say it. This was all a coincidence."

"You go ahead and believe that, if it makes you feel better, but you and I both know the truth." Qui-Gon replied. For the first time in a while, he was feeling a bit giddy. Or maybe it was the Dornean brandy he'd had delivered to the party.

"All right, you got what you wanted, so now you can relax. You can go back to being a hermit and having intelligent conversations with vegetation."

The words were meant to bite a little. Mace had never understood his desire for solitary confinement and had always given him grief about it, but Qui-Gon didn't care. Nothing could dampen his spirits today.

He picked up another glass of his favorite brandy off the nearby refreshment table and observed the wedding attendees; all of whom were busy chatting happily amongst themselves, especially his favorite barber, who currently had Master Yoda cornered. The poor Jedi was going to be there a while. Remi had enough personality for three or four people, which could be a tad overwhelming for some. He was a likable fellow, if only he could calm down a little. Perhaps if he met the right person...

"What are you thinking?"

On the opposite side of the suite was Anakin.

"Qui-Gon...don't."

"I'll be right back."

He made his way through the crowd, receiving handshakes and exchanging smiles along the way, the most exuberant one coming from Remi.

"Oh dear, I always tear up at these kinds of events!" Remi explained, dabbing his leaking eyes with a lace tissue while Master Yoda made his escape.

"It was a beautiful ceremony." Qui-Gon agreed. He had known Remi a long time and considered him to be an thoroughly entertaining and trustworthy fellow. If not, he would never have been allowed to work in the Temple in the first place. So, in a way, the council had already approved of him.

Anakin had already achieved the age of an adult, and Remi was what - 35, 36 standard? Qui-Gon found the difference to be acceptable.

"Remi, my friend," he said, placing an arm about the younger man's shoulders and guiding him across the room. "Allow me to introduce you to someone."

_End_


End file.
